Bard's Delight
by Darkaus
Summary: Ballad about...YAY Nazgul! try it, you may like it!must understand that for whatever reason, somehow The Witchking escaped Pellenor. Enjoy!


Authors note:I own nothing, nothing at all. I give credit to Heather Alexander for the nifty rhyme scheme especialy. if you ever find her song, "Demonbane" listen to it, it's good!

Along the roads of Mordor  
The sun dripped red and bleak  
The mountains fire smoked,  
And issued from its peak.  
The mountains fire smoked, it reeked into the sky,  
And would have hid the lack of lid upon the flaming Eye.

Then up there rides the Witch-king,  
But why such haste has he?  
What is the will that drives him?  
From what foe does he flee?  
What is the will that drives him? It seems he's journeyed far,  
And weakness stains the fearful eyes of the Lord of Angmar.

An Ork spy now approaches,  
He lifts his hands and cries,  
'Where are the other dark riders?  
Long distant from our eyes?  
We heard you fell at Pellenor, when all the fields bled red,  
So how is it we missed you if in-fact you be not dead.'

Now up speaks lord of Nazgul,'why is it said I fell?  
I took my share of pain that day,  
But I am whole and well,  
I come now with my summons,  
For Sauron called me back,  
And of my fellow riders seek them where the weapons clack.'

So forth goes now the Witch-king,

And weary does he ride.  
The gates of Mordor are shattered,  
His comrades can't be spied,  
The gates of black are shattered, their shards point to the sky,  
And standing now before them Aragorn does give a cry.

Now only the Lord Aragorn,  
Stands blocking Murazor's way,  
And Murazor call from on his steed 'Oh I will make thee pay!  
With blood you will repay me, for all that you have cost!  
For as I stand before you my lord's battle is not lost!'

Now there stands the Lord Aragorn,  
And with him Gondor's men--  
And the white wizard behind him, he calls to speak again,  
'So here we meet Murazor,  
This is no more your land,  
So turn aside from here I tell you, turn aside your hand...

...Let it be for there is silver, in starlight and there's gold,  
In sunsets and in sunrise, that you may still behold,  
And I will grant you pardon,  
And safety from this band,  
If! You will toss away your arms and turn aside your hand.'

'What need have I of silver? When wrapped within his might?  
And all the gold I cherish, comes from his flaming light!  
The only pardon I will seek,  
Is his pardon of me, So!  
Stand aside Lord Aragorn and I will let thee be!'

'Now I shall give thee beauty, nature's eternal glen,  
And I shall give thee comfort you will never have again!  
And I shall give thee hope,  
Where now I see your hopes run cold!  
Surrender now Murazor or I fear this peace will fold!'

'The beauty that you offer,  
…is far to easily lost,  
And any comfort you would give is hardly worth the cost,  
I'm not the one who now of hope stands worried or concerned, So!  
Turn aside 'lord' Aragorn!  
If you would not be burned!'

The Witch-king backs his stallion,  
His blade rose to the sky,  
The wizards whispers softly, 'we cannot let him by,'  
The wizard whispers softly,  
The Wraith Lord's laughter's heard,  
And that foul slash like shattered glass obscures the White One's word.

The Wraith Lord's laugh is uttered,  
The storm draws over head,  
The Orks that gathered behind him think perhaps they should have fled,  
Aragorn does give a curse,  
He raises Narsil high!  
'So fall you now Murazor for I cannot let you by!'

The sky itself surrenders,  
The rain in sheets descends  
Murazor gives a shudder,  
And clenches hard his hands,  
The Witch-king gives a shudder, emits a strangled gasp,  
...Gandalf hefts his staff on high; they have him in their grasp.

The mountains fire rumbles,  
It shoots into the sky,  
The stallion is affrighted; he rears and gives a cry.  
Murazor's strength is fading,  
The rains slip from his hand…  
Then crashed down the Wraith Lord into Mordor's gritty sand.

Now Aragorn approaches, and well he hides his fear,  
For never has he been in as much peril as is here.  
The Witch-king may be winded; he may be at his end,

But! there is murder in those eyes to which he must descend…

And he stands before the Nazgul,  
The storm does have its way--  
For both of them are soaked clean through,  
In mud the dead decay.  
The blade of Narsil flashes, as lightning rules the sky,  
And speaketh does Lord Aragorn,

'You had your chance now die.'

Let us from here glean wisdom, in face of what befell,  
Evil cannot see reason, its fire will not quell,  
…and if you see the other Nine, if they escaped their fate...  
do not attempt to barter or all help will be too late!  
For the Nazgul are but puppets, and the Eye is but a sign!  
And all the shadows creatures and the darkness forged in time,

Will trace right back to Melkor, who Morgoth soon became!  
An evil is an evil, and they love their spiteful flame!

An evil is an evil and they love their spiteful flame!


End file.
